He Made Every Choice for Twenty Years Then I Chose Divorce Chapter 03

He Made Every Choice for Twenty Years Then I Chose Divorce Chapter 03

I moved into corporate housing for a while. A few quiet days passed.

Then, a week later, Ms. Harwood sent me to the mall to pick up samples from a vendor. The weekend crowd was thick.

As I cut through the jewelry department, my peripheral caught two familiar figures—Ethan and Maya, bent over a display case at a jewelry store, heads together.

I paused, about to detour, but Maya spotted me and ran over. “Celia!”

She hooked her arm through mine and dragged me back. “You’ve been gone forever and didn’t even tell us. Come on, look—I picked out your jewelry.”

The counter was lined with gold pieces. She grabbed a bangle and slid it onto my wrist without asking. “See how pretty? Ethan said we’re getting the wedding band set, and I spent forever choosing.”

The cold metal hit my skin. I yanked my hand back. “No thanks.”

Maya blinked, then laughed and pushed it toward me again. “Just try it on, just for fun.”

I was done. I pulled my arm away hard. In the shove, Maya’s heel caught on a chair leg, and she lurched backward, her side smacking the counter edge. She gasped, and the bangle clattered onto the glass.

Ethan’s face went cold. He strode over, steadied Maya, and whipped his head toward me, voice like ice. “What the hell, Celia? You pushed her?”

I stood frozen, hand still in the air. Maya bent over, hissing, and tugged his sleeve. “It’s okay, it’s okay—I just tripped.”

Ethan didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes on me. “Celia, you need to apologize. She’s been busting her ass for you for weeks—she doesn’t owe you a thing. What’s your problem?”

I looked at him and said quietly, “Did I ask her to?”

“This is my wedding—”

Maya’s eyes reddened immediately. “Celia…”

Ethan shot her a glance and cut me off with a sharp click of his tongue.

“Enough, Celia—Maya’s crying. You don’t know anything about planning. Without her, our wedding would be a disaster.”

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t want to get married?”

He stared at me with that sure, judging look. In his mind, I was always the one who’d bow my head and apologize.

I looked at him, at Maya. At eighteen, we’d stacked our hands and promised never to drift apart.

At twenty-eight, standing here with my fiancé and my best friend, I finally broke down, tears slipping out.

Ethan’s expression flickered. He let go of Maya and stepped forward, reaching to wipe my cheek. “Celia, I was just messing with you—of course we’re getting married, I—”

I stepped back. “Ethan, I’m not marrying you.” His hand hung in the air, then dropped. His face darkened. “Celia, are you a child? You don’t just say things like that.”

He even smirked, shaking his head. “Throw your tantrum, but don’t go too far. Without me and Maya, you can’t even cook, you take the subway the wrong way—who else would put up with you?”

I paused, then laughed bitterly. Same old story. My thoughts, my feelings—to them, it was all just a game. Never respected. Whatever.

I turned and walked. Behind me, Maya’s voice, frantic. “Ethan, go after her! What are you waiting for?”

Then Ethan’s, slow and annoyed. “Chase her? Let her go. She’ll come back when she hits a dead end—she needs to learn a lesson.”

I sure did.